


The Wisdom of Ravens

by neverminetohold



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 08:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13004325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/pseuds/neverminetohold
Summary: Maleficent stood poised to curse an innocent child for the sins of its father. But then King Stefan made her an offer Diaval knew his mistress would never refuse.





	The Wisdom of Ravens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tooth_and_claw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooth_and_claw/gifts).



Ever since he had brought her the news that Queen Leila was with child, his mistress had taken to brooding. Diaval couldn't claim to be surprised. That mortal woman now possessed all Maleficent had once wished for - though, in fairness, King Henry's daughter had had little say in the matter.  
  
Over the months, Maleficent's mood darkened the very atmosphere of the Moors, as if she cast a vast shadow, yet that did nothing to truly affect the fae she was sworn to protect. Their laughter was carried close on the wind - it was mere compassion and consideration that kept them away from the clearing.  
  
Few things traveled faster than rumors, especially not when Knotgrass got herself involved.  
  
Diaval stayed close, content to wait, knowing that any word of comfort he might offer would not be welcome. Life as an animal had been so... clear-cut. Yet he knew exactly the reason why he didn't miss it.  
  
After long hours of sitting on the throne she had fashioned herself, Maleficent stirred. "Come with me, Diaval."  
  
She walked past him in a rustle of fabric, trailing the scent of magic and the ripe apple she had shared with him. The hem of her elegant garments brushed over the back of his hand, so simple a thing, yet his foolish heart beat faster.  
  
He stood, blinking away the afterimage of his skyward staring. "Of course, Mistress."  
  
Maleficent led him through the maze of hidden pathways to the pond that lay close to the border. Its perfect circle was framed by flowers in full bloom. Water Sprites, their long red fins fluttering like banners, danced over its surface, chasing each other and the shifting patterns cast by the sun. More brilliant still was what covered its bottom, the multitude of precious gems, all of them in the rough, but also of the clearest water, and thus priceless.  
  
She stood there, long enough that Diaval began to suspect that Maleficent was lost in the memories of her first meeting with a young Stefan, the human who had stolen the heart she had given him freely – only to crush it.  
  
Had sparing her life truly been an act of kindness?  
  
"One is missing." Maleficent threw her head back and laughed, so hollow and bitter a sound that it startled the Water Sprites into hiding. "He tricked me even then."  
  
XXX  
  
Everyone gathered in the throne room - the gentry and foreign delegates, the knights and servants - seemed to hold their collective breath as his mistress leaned closer, peering again at the babe cooing in its crib.  
  
Diaval cawed softly, adding his voice to the echo of King Stefan's, asking for leniency. Not for the man he had come to despise no less than the dogs that made sport of killing his kin, but for this newborn child, that should not be made to pay for the sins of its father. It was innocent. As Maleficent herself had once been.  
  
"Wait!" King Stefan shouted. He rose from his throne, drawn and pale, and took a cowering step closer. "I-I will return them. Please, just - _please_ , do not hurt my child."  
  
Diaval felt his mistress' tension, her surprise, could read the flicker of emotions that chased across her face. Though she no doubt suspected trickery, there was a cautious thread of hope glinting in her golden-green eyes.  
  
Maleficent straightened, stood tall and regal, as unconcerned as King Stefan as confused murmurs rose to the coffered ceiling. - Few were those gathered here that knew the true tale of Stefan's ascension to power. How he, a mere servant, had smothered King Henry with a pillow as the old man laughed in his face when he had demanded the just reward for his vile deed.  
  
"Your word, _King_ Stefan," Maleficent finally said, stressing his title as if to sever any personal tie between them. "And know that it will be binding."  
  
Stefan swallowed, hair clammy with sweat beneath his crown, clearly not trusting either his voice or good fortune. "I swear they will be delivered to the border before the full moon sets."  
  
Maleficent's smile was thin-lipped as she inclined her head. "Then all shall be forgiven."  
  
"But never forgotten."  
  
"Of course." Her tone of voice was far too sweet. "You've taught me well."  
  
XXX  
  
Maleficent snapped her fingers and the magic blazed through and around him in a gentle breeze of sparkling gold that carried him from raven to man within the blink of an eye. Used to shifting shapes by now, Diaval smoothed creased fabric as he would have preened his feathers and stood aside.  
  
Summoned by her will a massive wall of thorned vines burst through the rich soil and rose between the border stones, dwarfing the statues, twining and weaving and growing, fashioned to protect the Moors from invaders.  
  
There was a sense of finality in the air, as if, with this night, they had chosen to turn left at a crossroads that had offered alternatives. Or perhaps he was just that relieved that no curse would haunt either of them. - Living no longer in the here and now of ravens, Diaval had learned to predict the future; and dread it.  
  
Leaning subtly on her scepter to alleviate the pain radiating between her shoulder blades, Maleficent turned her back on her work. "What do you think?"  
  
"Perhaps he truly wishes to redeem himself," Diaval said, following her gaze that was drawn to the full moon.  
  
"We shall see - and soon, it seems."  
  
He spotted and heard it too, then. A shade darker than the night, growing closer, wheels bumping over raised roots, the steaming breath of horses, a small escort of knights, the gleam of armor and weapons, cold iron and silver. King Stefan called the small procession to a halt and his men began unloading a display case the size of a coffin. Within its confines there was frantic movement, battering and twisting.  
  
Unlike his mistress, who appeared as composed as always, Diaval found it hard to draw his gaze away from the trapped wings that tried to return to their rightful owner, their missing other half.  
  
_What would I be without my wings?_ Diaval asked himself with the cold rush of fear, remembering Maleficent's words upon their first meeting: ' _I need you to be my wings._ ' A wealth of meaning there, understood long before he had been trusted to lay eyes on her scars.  
  
"You've kept your word."  
  
"And I trust you will remember yours," King Stefan answered with the slightest bow; one sovereign acknowledging the other. Studying the wall of thorns with clear misgivings, he added, "You have fortified the border."  
  
"Yes." Ignoring the knights, their hands, that rested on the pommels of their swords, Maleficent moved to stand beside him. "I think we - both of us - have proven that our people are not yet ready to peacefully coexist."  
  
"It wasn't always thus."  
  
"No," Maleficent agreed, her tone almost wistful. "But we have changed."  
  
"Perhaps that only means that there is hope for us yet," King Stefan said with the hint of a smile. His eyes softened as they strayed to the wedding band he wore.  
  
Diaval had heard it said among men that love redeemed. In that moment, he hoped that those words held true. But then, he had always been an optimist.  
  
XXX  
  
They soared together through the cold mist of clouds, rising above them to greet the dawn of a new day. Bathed in sunlight, his mistress was a wondrous sight to behold, full of laughter and joy, carried onward by the grace and strength of her wings.  
  
A fairy tale ending, where everyone lived happily ever after. Of course, Diaval knew better. Hearts were broken with quick ease, yet for them to mend took time. - Who could say what the future might bring?  
  
But Diaval had a raven's patience. His heart fluttered, filled with a warm spark of hope.


End file.
